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 Posted: Tue Sep 02, 2014 12:22 am
August 31stTravelRegardless if he wants it or not, she holds his hand during the entirety of the train ride. It had been so long, more than a year, since Abbi has boarded a train, or really any sort of vehicle for travel other than her own two feet, that it feels strange to ride on something with wheels. She is scared, in a part of her that refuses to admit it to the harshness that is Leslie, so she is instead loud and excited and flails her free arm in the space outside herself, or taps happy fingertips against the window, or cups its palm against her mouth to make up stories about the old man who sits two seats in front of them. The teenager says he is some former famous musician, probably plays the violin or cello, something that is not necessarily relevant to modern society so that his qualifications have slipped beneath the cracks. But the girl still laughs and won't let Leslie's fingers go from her own freckled ones, she stills grips them tight as though they are an anchor. "I bet he knows every version of Canon in D there is!" That joke doesn't quite work, because Pachabel's Canon comes in various versions and she appreciates Canon in G and F minor more than the original version. "I bet he even knows the Zelda Medley!" Abbi laughs as she throws herself back against the seat and looks out the window, at unfamiliar buildings and trees that pass from whatever town the portal crew decided to dump them into to their destination. "I've never been to Chicago..." Abbi muses as they are told, through the use of the intercom station on the train that they will be arriving at their destination in fifteen minutes, "I've been to Colorado... And I'm from Connecticut. And we used to vacation on the Maryland beach, and we went to Florida once when I was fourteen... But Chicago... Not once." There are many places Abbi could say she's never been to, out of the country or the tippy top of the United States in Oregon or Canada, Europe or Asia or any of the many African countries, even something as simple as south of the border, but she instead flashes a smile to her companion. "What about you? Ya from anywhere?" She doesn't know much about him, not more than he will litter his phrases to her with something coarse, but Abbi doesn't mind. She still holds his hand and refuses to let go. They will exit the train together, linked in that, so she will suffer whatever response he has to say. She is content to not be alone for a day, even if she will let go of him the moment they depart the train so that random strangers on the street don't think something more, because it is the travel that is important to hold onto. The travel is what is dangerous, she has lost people on the way there, Abbi knows it is careless to think the trip is easy, she has learned from far earlier experiences than she ought to that the journey is the hardest part of things. That getting there is more fearful than what will be waiting for them. Once the train has stopped, once she feels the gradual dizziness of travel being to tingle away in fingertips and toes, Abbi hops from the seat. She tugs on both his hands now, grateful beyond belief that they have survived this. "I'm totally finding a Sanrio store and buying every stationary set that have available!" Abbi laughs, it's all she's got left because laughter is easy. "Are you hungry? I'm famished you wanna go for pizza first?" Her ticket is waved in the face of the attendant even if he'd checked it during their ride there. "I think I had like... A granola bar for breakfast?" She's eager and excited and hopeful and scared, so words cover all of that. They cover the jitter in her fingertips and knees, they cover the silly outfit she's worn of brightly robin's egg blue peter pan collared shirt, outweigh the darkness of a deep purple skirt and overturn black thigh high stockings. Nothing is as bright as the teen's smile that she gives to Leslie, an invitation of what he wishes, for Abbi is so glad to be away from Deus just for a day that she will forgive anything. Just give her food, and a laugh or two, and three bags full of shopping endeavors and she promises to suffer anything else he tosses her way. Anything at all, really.
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Posted: Tue Sep 02, 2014 1:23 am
TravelHe resents her for it, the hand holding. He resents the cloying sweat of her palm against his, resents that she won't let go no matter what he does, resents that it's the longest that anyone's ever held his hand. Leslie doesn't know how to deal with it, besides failed attempts to shake her off that taper off as the train ride proceeds. In between, he holds onto her too tight, accompanied by a nervous jitter in his leg. He calls her stories stupid from the start, choosing to stare past her out the window to pass the time, tuning her chatter out (but, still, holding her hand). Twenty minutes in he starts to interject with commentary and questions (What's Zelda? What's Canon? That's ******** retarded. Does he know 50 Cent?) Once, and just once, he makes the mistake of pulling on her pig tails to grt her attention to point out some dead animal in a field. He learns quick that it doesn't stop her, and that she'll grab his right back with a quick grip. In between her excited chittering- and he tells her she's a squirrel and has the buck teeth to match- Leslie tells her about Michigan and pieces of his childhood in halting sentences, half left incomplete because he censors the worst for no one's sake but his own. "I grew up in the shitty part of Detroit. ******** broke as s**t." "Ran with a gang and I sure wish I ******** led it but I didn't. It felt... ******** awesome, to take what I wanted and s**t. Money. Stuff. Drugs." "I sold s**t for a while. The money was- it was fine. I guess. I didn't. Uh. Well it was more than I ******** saw usually." "I dropped out when I was sixteen cos school is a bunch of ******** s**t. Not like I was passing anyway, s**t." They arrive in one piece, and he shares his hand out as exaggerated as he can, mutterings without much real protest. He shoves his hands back into his hoodie pocket, looking like the near homeless kid he'd be had he been at home. Worn jeans with holes, beat up grey sneakers, a hoodie grey that had started white, ratty at the sleeves. "What the ******** is Sanrio? Yeah I'm going to shank a baby if I don't eat something so let's do that first." He grimaces at the strength of her smile, and shoves unkindly at her shoulder. "Let's go, jesus christ, so we don't die here on a ******** train station."
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Posted: Tue Sep 02, 2014 7:42 pm
TravelEverything is taken in some sort of stride, Abbi able to joke it all away if only she tries hard enough. The initial lack of replies, the harsh words when a reply does finally come, even the hair pulling, she's got it all handled. She isn't alone, so nothing else matters. All his questions are met with detailed answers ( "Once I get my hands on a runic gaming system, we are having a serious come to Jesus talk about games, specifically who Zelda is.") or funny ones ( "Ohmigosh I bet he totally made a mix of Canon and 50 Cent!"), but they never stop. Not until he begins to speak in stilted sentences about himself. That is finally when Abbi goes a bit quiet, blinking wide blue eyes first at Leslie and then out the window. She isn't at all sure what to do with what he says, she has no jokes to make about all that. There is only what he says and the fuzzy memory of what he experienced once when he was young that Abbi only knows about because of Wonderland. The sad look of the dog, the trembling of heart and hands, she remembers all that. Finally she decides that general inquiries are fine and begins to ask silly things like what sort of stuff he stole, did he ever steal a couch or a plotted plant, had he done any of the drugs. Its odd information to have, but never one to shun additional resources she asks after them regardless. Reprieve comes with their exit off the train, her hands quick to grab at the straps of her bunny-eared backpack. "As a way of protecting the children of Chicago, let's get you a pizza." A quick display of her phone show she's got a map all ready to go, is already pointing down a road they should take to get to their next destination. "We're going to Piece Brewery and Pizzeria! It has the best reviews on Yelp and yanno... Its got beer and stuff!" Not that she wanted any, of course. "Hope you've got your fake ID on ya!" The shove is like a tickle, the teen trips forward onto the sidewalk with no amount of grace and turns to walk backwards so she can talk to her travel buddy. "After we eat you wanna go shopping? I'm in serious need of a cute date dress." Abbi flashed the boy a pointed grin before she whirls around to lead them down the sidewalk. "And you need some new hoodies. Winter is coming, you know."
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Posted: Tue Sep 02, 2014 8:45 pm
What's A Puri-Kura
"No ******** way," he'd said, reluctant to get closer to the bright, sticker-covered booth.
"No ******** way, no how, not ******** happening," he'd said, clutching the outsides of the doorway with his hands, like a cat refusing to get in a tub.
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Posted: Tue Sep 02, 2014 11:30 pm
Travel It's easier to fill up her head with stories that sound so much better with years in between. Tales of shoplifting (sometimes he's unspecific, and sometimes he recants exactly what he stole-- but he remembers it all. Sometimes it's just mundane. No one wants to hear about him lifting bread and lunch meat), of the few times he'd hallucinated and crawled up a tree and no one could get him down (because, Leslie said, with no small amount of bitterness, "I was the only one light enough to get up the ******** thing."), about skateboarding in drained pools (poorly), about belonging. "Look at you all ready to ******** go," Leslie said, unable to conceal his approval, shouldering his backpack to turn away and hide a grin. "I was just gonna ask a bum or some s**t. What's Yelp?" He hated not knowing what s**t was, but Abbi seemed to explain everything-- albeit, with about two hundred words too many-- without batting an eye. He physically grimaced at the idea of shopping, and further still at the idea of spending money. Abbi'd be lucky if Leslie didn't dine and dash, but she didn't need to know that. Yet. "No, but I think we're probably gonna anyway, huh? And no ******** way, my clothes are fine. Jesus, don't make this weird and about me. Women, I swear."
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Posted: Thu Sep 04, 2014 8:57 pm
Travel
There are times when being gullible do not come in handy, when believing in the lie people want to tell is dangerous. But when it comes to Leslie, Abbi is almost always certain what he has to say is slanted. And yet she still listens with rapt attention, she still gives in and accepts everything he says. Even if she knows what she hears might be partial truths, or conveniently lacking in the realm of sincerity of the strictest kind, the teenager still chooses to believe. Maybe the lie is important, but the fact he's here to tell them at all is really what she cares about.
When he talks about the tree, she cannot stop the squeeze of his fingers that accompanies her words. "I wish I'd been there. I could have at least kept you company in the tree. I'm pretty good at climbing!" She isn't, of course. There weren't good climbing trees in her yard in Connecticut, full of centuries old oaks or newer saplings too thin to support even a small child's weight, but Abbi knows that if she had been friends with Leslie when he'd managed to get stuck in a tree, she would have found a way up into the tree with him. Even if sheer stubbornness would have been her ladder, nothing would have been more fun than laughing with him while he lost his mind for a night.
The girl files all that away as they depart, pretends it isn't something she is jealous of, even the bad parts, because it means he was part of something before Deus. She has never been part of a group, not even when she'd haphazardly cobbled together a few people on the Island that fell apart just as quickly as she'd pieced it together. The idea that people could actually stick together was foreign to her, so for all the wrong she knows Leslie and those he ran with enacted, she still cannot keep herself from wanting something similar too.
"I'm always ready to go!" Abbi chirps as a way to cover her green streak. "Someone's gotta be the leader in this operation." She grins at him, almost tries out a wink that turns into a quick flutter of eyes when she cannot commit. She is all too happy to explain what Yelp is, "Its this great internet based like... Review site! Everyone submits reviews, mostly about restaurants, but businesses too like clothing stores and junk and like... Real people go to those places so you know its gonna be authentic!" Sharing information is what she is good at, it is something she has spent her more present years honing. And Leslie is receptive enough that she never once thinks he might resent not knowing what she does.
With a skip and a little hip wiggle the girl began down the sidewalk, all too at easy in the busy city, happy to skirt between people, always careful to cast a look back to make sure Leslie followed. Cities were easy, she could blend in with them seamlessly.
"We are totally shopping. We don't get a stipend every month just to sit on it!" Which was exactly what she'd been doing for a while. "Besides. I'm sure I owe you a birthday present or a Christmas present or something. So I'll buy you a new hoodie, ok?" Abbi crinkled blue eyes at him alongside a show of tongue. "Don't you want some cutie checkin' ya out in your fancy hood wear?"
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Posted: Thu Sep 04, 2014 9:06 pm
What's A Puri-Kura"YASSSSS!!!"It had called to her like a siren of the sea, which was a really terrible use of the metaphor because Abbi had not encountered a siren but a mermaid and knew their songs were just as haunting and alluring. "YASSSS YASSS FRIGGIN' WAY!"The bright colors, the flashing, glittering lights and the plink-plink-dingaling-plink-DING! of its catchy attempt at techno had drawn her closer even if she hadn't known what she was walking toward. "SO HAPPENING. IN THE PRESENT HAPPENING. ACTUALLY OCCURRING RIGHT. THIS. SECOND." While Leslie held onto the entrance like a cat, Abbi pushed in her favored dogged manner, her hands seeking under his ribs to tickle in hopes of dislodging him. When that didn't work she wrapped her arms around his waist in a peaceful manner and laid her head on his shoulder. The booth held enough room for four people, and there was only the two of them. All that was needed was to close the curtain and insert cash. The lights called to her, sparkled just like her eyes as she spoke in sugary words of warning. "I had a step-brother who liked to hog my PS3. I will knee you in your balls and not care if you squint in the pictures. So you better get into the booth and smile pretty or I will further inhibit your child bearing abilities." Abbi grinned at her friend and gave another push, because no one was stopping the possibility of her getting her hands onto an honest to Glob puri-kura strip today. cherno astra don't play with puri-kura punk
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Posted: Fri Sep 05, 2014 1:31 am
Travel
Leslie shook their joined hands, like he'd almost forgotten that she had a grip of steel. "Bet there's some ********' trees in a park around here that we could climb, or something. Whatever. No ******** point thinking of the past."
We think that is hypocritical, youngling.
Shut up, Aleria.
He followed along, listening, his free hand shoved deep into his front pocket. When they got looked at (because she was so loud: her voice, her appearance, her hair), Leslie wondered what people thought. Charity case? Kid brother (or sister)? Date?
They were just friends, although he'd be loathe to use the word.
"Authentic? It's a ******** restaurant that's probably gonna be overpriced as ********. Who cares about if it's authentic?" He nudged her shoulder with his own, a bit more abrupt than necessary. He hated taking charity, but more than that, he hated spending money. "...Okay. But I get to give it the final yes or no, I don't want to end up in pink or some faggoty s**t."
The light to cross the street wasn't a friendly little walking guy yet, but there wasn't anyone coming, so Leslie tugged her along through the crosswalk anyway. "I don't give a s**t if someone checks me out. If I want bitches I'd get them."
(Memories of a drunken stupor, a hand too big and calloused to be a woman's, the heat sliding up his skin.) Leslie hunched his shoulders. "But if you think I need one, sure."
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Posted: Fri Sep 05, 2014 1:42 am
What's A Puri-Kura " YOU ARE THE WORST." Leslie's resistance was a strong one. There was pink everywhere, and even worse, it'd mean he'd need to look at himself for an extended period of time, and that he'd get physical evidence afterwards. Joy. (Because he was always trying to avoid-- especially as of late-- looking a certain f*****t right in the eyes.) "I don't want any ******** ankle-biters anyway, jesus shitting christ." But, despite the complaints, Leslie relented on his grip and slid into the booth with teeth gritted. "If you're expecting me to smile, you can go ******** yourself."
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Posted: Sun Sep 07, 2014 7:59 pm
Ink & Skin
"You seem kind of like a punk sorta dude..." Abbi began after a thoughtful moment of silence. The silence was largely due to the popsicle she was hastily trying to eat. It was the end of August and there was a nice breeze, but the city was still hot. "Got any tattoos?"
She had nearly clocked Leslie with how quickly she'd turned when the teenager had spotted the popsicle stand, an honest to goodness one with home made frozen confections in a variety of unique flavors. Refusing to take no for an answer, and because her hunger seemed ravenous now that she was allowed fresher fare than MRE's or canned food, she had bought herself a sea salt chocolate caramel flavor and one for her companion.
"If its in a weird place I don't wanna see. Just askin'."
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Posted: Sun Sep 07, 2014 8:13 pm
Travel
The shake of his hand, miraculously, loosens her grip and her fingers seem to remember to keep to themselves. Abbi turned back to her phone, tapped against the screen and chirped they only had ten more blocks to go. Maybe twelve, if she'd plugged in the wrong address or something. It wasn't that she didn't want to climb a tree with Leslie, she really did in fact. It would be fun, he'd have to help her up and she would whine at him until he did and he would grumble about it, but probably do it in the end. That would be fun, that would be wonderful and she would laugh about it and maybe he would too.
But she didn't talk because Abbi just didn't want to say anything else that would make him remember the past he so clearly didn't like.
Instead she kept walking, blinking wide eyes at the people who looked their way. Used to a general glance here and there (her hair was pretty bright), she found the longer looks a surprise. Stranger's eyes darted over her face quickly, down, to the boy beside her, back to her (still down) and finally at her hair before they caught her staring back. That was a surprise and though she kept a thought for making sure they stayed on the right track, Abbi was mystified by this.
"What?" She asked, turned to Leslie with a mildly confused look. Had he been saying something?
"Pffttt, pink is so not your color."
Dutiful to stop on the sidewalk, Abbi turned her gaze around at the others waiting for the light to change, curious to see if they looked back.
The surprise of something warm and clammy on her hand made her jump a little, but she was tugged out onto the street.
"Wait we ca--" But a mental kick from her ghost shut her up, her feet hasty to keep up with Leslie and to hurry them both across the street all the faster.
"Like you got Selena?" She wrinkles her nose at him in a grin before she darts around him, careful to pull her hand free, as she rushed the last few steps to jump onto the sidewalk.
"And I do think you need a new one. We'll do that after we eat!" A hand pointed to the left. "This way!"
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Posted: Sun Sep 07, 2014 8:19 pm
What's a Puri-KuraOnly a great big smile was Abbi's reply as she shoved Leslie in, then threw herself after him. Before she could do anything she had to just take it all in, especially with her fingertips, as her hands darted over the cartoon characters inside, over the plastic casing of the screen, clutched the curtain closed behind them. It was all so magical. "Can't have ankle-biters regardless." She chirped as she shimmied out of her backpack, clunking it down on the metal floor to pull out her wallet. "Which seems kinda silly. Ya think they'd want little minds to turn to the Deus side of things. More soldiers for the cause and all." A bill was wiggled out and slid into the blinking slot. "But at the same time, just makes things easier. Nothing ta worry about if no ladies can get preggers, no worries about gettin' hurt on the field and all that." The machine tinkled to life and Abbi grinned at Leslie. "Ya knew that, right?"
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Posted: Sun Sep 07, 2014 8:38 pm
Ink & Skin
"Tattoos," he said, definitively-- as if he were some sort of expert-- "are for faggots. Same as piercings. But girls can get them just fine" He eyeballed the popsicle stand, then the popsicle, then Abbi. He was pleasantly surprised by how much he liked it, and chomped off the top half of it.
"You should get a tramp stamp. Or your belly button pierced. Or," Leslie said, smirking at Abbi, "your tongue."
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Posted: Sun Sep 07, 2014 9:32 pm
Travel
"No ******** s**t," he said, relieved in every way that the topic of bygone years was being dropped. He owed her, for it, although the debt was nearly wiped out with her comment about Selena.
"Hey," Leslie said with a shrug. "Every single ******** girl on the island is crazy as a god damned loon." he turned a few times to watch her move before deciding to just follow her as she darted to the left. "And going off island just for tit pics is whatever."
In reality, his libido just wasn't as on fire as it used to be. Most of the time, he was exhausted from the infirmary, training, or both. Sort of put a clamp on his desire to get laid.
"Finally, jesus christ, I could eat two pizzas myself. Watch me. I've done it."
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Posted: Tue Sep 09, 2014 12:40 pm
What's a Puri-Kura Magical his left asscheek. It was confined, smelled like sticky candy, and had way too much girly s**t everywhere for Leslie's liking. He regarded it all with immense suspicion and immediate disapproval. "I don't think it's a ******** choice," he said, in between pulling a pained face in time for the flash, and then a decent face because ********, "it's just how the cards ******** fall, right? Zombie babies and all that s**t?" Twitter was a scarily educating place, sometimes. He flipped the bird at the camera. "I'm sure if they had their way, they'd run us ragged and make bitches squirt out babies like an assembly line."
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